Consigned to Flames of Woe
by Pouncikit
Summary: The [very slowly] ongoing saga of Misto, sparkly magic, Electra, and whatever else happens to gain control of my mind after too much catnip. ~UPDATED~
1. Chapter 1

I finally found a name for this monstrosity! ^-^ (Muahahaha) I was watching Amadeus for the fiftieth time and some of the lyrics to Mozart's death mass kinda stuck with me. The title is the English translation (you know, the confutatis part…)  
  
A/N: Hi all! Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but it took me awhile to come up with a way to get the story going, and I thought I'd see what kind of reaction this generates before it's continued. PG as of now for a little violence and some swearing, but I'd be open to suggestions if anyone thinks it should be rated differently. Misto lovers, don't hurt me! I'm a part of the masses, too! It'll get better, I promise (not before it gets worse, though – muahaha). R&R will earn you my eternal gratitude as well as the remainder of my catnip stockpile. Thank you so much! ^-^  
  
Disclaimer: I don't CATS…  
  
How would you translate that?  
  
Consigned to flames of woe.  
  
You believe in it?  
  
What?  
  
A fire which never dies, burning you forever.  
  
Oh, yes.  
  
~ Amadeus  
  
  
  
The stars were beautiful that night – seeming to light up the sky with a magic deeper, stronger, and wilder than he could ever have. Stretching out on top of the pipe, paws splayed comfortably on the rim, Mistoffelees watched the night sky. He always felt a peace when he watched the stars. They were his guardian angels; the one thing that had always been there to comfort him even before he had been truly accepted into the tribe. Even with his guardians, however, he would not have traded the sense of belonging he felt now for anything in the world. It was his magic that made it possible, he knew, and every night as he watched the stars he thanked the Everlasting Cat.  
  
With one last stretch and a silent thankful prayer, the tuxedo curled up inside the pipe and fell asleep. From her vantage point under the old car, a kitten smiled at the object of her vigil and gave herself up to sleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"El, wake up!"  
  
Electra yawned and batted her eyes sleepily. "What is it, Cettie?" she mumbled as she looked up at the smiling face of her best friend.  
  
Etcetera was jumping around so hyperly that Electra pondered the possibility of her head falling off, but then she said, "Misto promised me and Jemi yesterday that he'd show us a new trick he thought up today and well it's today now and Tugger's going to be there and everything! Come on, we have to hurry!" Etcetera tugged on the other kitten's paw impatiently. "Tumble and Pounce are already there."  
  
Electra ran a paw through her fur hurriedly as they neared the old brick wall where Pouncival, Tumblebrutus, and Jemima were assembled. Jemima and Pouncival were talking and laughing, and Electra sighed as she saw them together. She had often seen her younger friend's eyes light up when she spotted the playful tom catching sun rays or victimizing an unfortunate moth with short swipes. Pouncival, too, seemed to be more open and talkative when Jemi was around. It was almost like he was showing off for her. Electra settled down beside Cettie and retreated deep inside herself, where she could pretend that someone cared enough about her to show off for her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
1 "Rum Tum Tugger, if you don't get your egotistical tail out here now, I will personally shave off that oversized mane!"  
  
There was a crash and yelling from inside the Tugger's place, and the Maine coon himself came out at as much of a run as he would ever allow himself to be seen. Misto shook his head. 'The king of peaceful early morning conversation,' he thought. 'Curious beast, indeed.' Tugger grinned broadly and swatted the magician's face with his tail.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Misto! Keep threatening me like that and people will start to think you do have a temper after all."  
  
Misto couldn't help but grin at his friend's antics. "Bomb spent the night again, I take it?"  
  
"Yeah. I love her, but the mornings after are starting to make me wonder."  
  
"Wondering what kind of present she'd like as an 'I'm sorry' gift, no doubt."  
  
His companion sent him a glaring look. "She's going to have to wait this one out. I'm not the one who killed the flower vase against the wall."  
  
The tuxedo tom chuckled. "You two really do belong together. Anyway, we'll be late for the big performance."  
  
Tugger grimaced slightly and pulled Misto along. "Well then let's go before a certain red hellcat decides to follow us to keep 'her Tugger' in line."  
  
"I have a feeling I am going to enjoy Bomb's version of this morning's events. Oh look, Tugger, your whole entourage is present and accounted for."  
  
"Of course they are!" The Maine coon grinned. "When I set out to make a friend famous, you know I always draw the crowds."  
  
Misto shook his head. "Then I'll leave the introduction up to you."  
  
"Don't you always?" Tugger winked and leapt up to the wall, leaving the magician to work out the rest of the details. At his cue, Misto concentrated his mind inward and outward simultaneously and appeared on top of the wall in a shower of blue sparkles. As he always did when he was in front of an audience, he scanned the upturned faces for a focal point. Usually the candidate was someone who didn't particularly seem to be enjoying the show, and Misto then made an effort to include them. Last year at the Jellicle Ball, he had chosen Cassandra not because he liked her (as some of the kittens had made a point of saying), but because her eyes had looked at him and whispered to him that she was bored.  
  
Quickly, he glanced around at the assembled kittens' faces. Jemima and Etcetera looked ready to chase their tail like Pollicles in sheer anticipation, Tumblebrutus couldn't keep his eyes off Etcetera (have to store that one away for future reference), Victoria was merely sitting politely with Plato beside her, and Pouncival was engrossed with a grasshopper that had somehow wandered under his paw. Then he saw Electra. Her normally expressive face was blank, and her eyes veritably screamed at him. He was nowhere near as psychic as Coricopat or Tantomile, but he wasn't blind, either. She was the perfect cat for what he had in mind.  
  
He bowed with a flourish, and as his "lovely assistant" R.T. Tugger struck a pose for his posse, the Maine coon was covered in colourful butterflies. There were scattered "oohs" and "aahs" from the kittens as the butterflies dispersed and Tugger had disappeared. Concentrating on one butterfly in particular – a gorgeous blue and gold creature – Misto gave it a gentle psychic nudge. The butterfly fluttered around aimlessly for a few seconds and flew over to Electra. As she watched it, it landed calmly o her paw and showed off its wings. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw some of the others chasing the other butterflies (Pouncival), sitting and admiring their beauty (Victoria and Jemima), or pouting and swatting at the things that "ate" the Tugger (Etcetera).  
  
Smiling a little to himself, Misto reached out again towards Electra's butterfly and shifted the colours a bit…just a bit more black… He was rewarded with a small smile from Electra as the butterfly sported its new tuxedo pattern happily. Catching her eye with a wink, he waved his hand to disperse the butterflies. Pouncival flopped down beside Jemima, discouraged. "Almost had him, too."  
  
Etcetera, on the other hand, looked like she was about to cry. "Where'd Tugger go?"  
  
"Ah," said Misto, holding a paw up. "That's the mystery." He leaned in close to the light-coloured kitten and said, "And when you figure that out, you'll know more than me."  
  
She giggled a little, and Misto raised one paw up in the air and snapped his fingers. The Tugger appeared and, holding the magician's paw, bowed and blew kisses to his adoring audience. Misto smiled and disappeared.  
  
* * * * *  
  
He teleported into the pipe and lay down on the rug inside. Even though he had been practicing that trick every day for almost a week, it still felt like a terrible drain on his magic. It had definitely been worth it, though. Misto didn't normally enjoy parading his magic about like some circus trick, but lately he had noticed a change in one particular kitten's attitude. She had always been somewhat of a mystery to him, acting as wild and happy-go-lucky as any other young cat one minute and staring intently at nothing the next. Misto had expected that Jemima might go through a few minor personality alterations after being used as a medium by Coricopat and Tantomile, but there seemed to be no reason for her to turn silent and brooding. Her. Electra.  
  
He had for a long time considered Electra to be the most beautiful queen in the tribe. The thing was, he didn't judge beauty like most other cats did. Sure Demeter, Bombalurina, and Victoria were beautiful, but Dem and Bomb were already spoken for, and Victoria although sweet, could be incredibly shallow at times. Besides, she and Plato had been on again, off again mates ever since last year's Ball. He saw something in Electra that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but knew was there the same.  
  
A knock at the front of the pipe attracted his attention. Or actually, a lot of rattling, some giggling and a "shh". Misto smiled and called to his guests. "Come on in, guys."  
  
Mungojerrie stuck his head inside of the curtain covering the front of the pipe, closely followed by his mate.  
  
"'Ey, Jerrie, Oi 'fought we was gonna surproise 'im!"  
  
"Not wiv you laffin' ev'ry toime Oi makes a face, we can'," he explained, twanging the end of her whiskers.  
  
Rumpleteazer twitched her nose and sneezed. "Ugh…that wasn' too noice, Jer."  
  
He grinned and ruffled the fur on top of her head, then turned back to Misto. "Anyway, tha reason we came 'eah was to ask yeh ter come wiv us on a job. Tha' li'l disappeary 'fingy'd come in real useful, y'know."  
  
The younger tom sighed. "Sorry Mungo, but I'm not robbing houses with you."  
  
Rumpleteazer winked at him and started pulling her mate away. "Aw, come on, Jer, 'ee's not gonna be any fun today. We cin come back la'eh."  
  
"Yeah Oi guess yer roight, 'Teaza. See ya la'eh then, Misto," Mungojerrie waved as Rumpleteazer dragged him off giggling.  
  
Misto nodded and resumed his comfortable position on the rug. He'd probably be expected to come out later after the show, and he'd at least have to go thank Tugger for helping. Funny, though, he still felt like he had when he had first used the magic. He was afraid to try to walk, his legs felt so weak. Then the real pain hit.  
  
The first thing he felt was a sharp hammering at the base of his skull. Gingerly placing a paw on the back of his neck, he started to head for the clearing in the middle of the Junkyard. Jellylorum would be there, and if she wasn't maybe Tantomile could help. Then his vision clouded over and the familiar colours were replaced with a fierce, screaming white. The hammering was in his eyes now, too, pulling him down to his knees, paws clutched tightly over his head. He wasn't aware of anything except the pain now, but he could somehow hear the beating of his heart magnified in his ears. He must have creamed, for he found himself curled up with his mouth hanging slackly open, and then his mind shut down completely. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Second installment, yay! (ahem) Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter, and sorry this one took so long to get here, but we're just finishing up exams this week, so it hasn't really been my best week. 'Nuff said.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own CATS, RUG and Andrew Lloyd Webber do. I don't own 'Nuff said, either, that belongs to Marvel Comics.  
  
"Are you even listening to me, Lecty?"  
  
"Hmm?" Electra pawed at her ear absently. "I'm sorry, Cettie, I was just thinking about something."  
  
Etcetera pouted cutely and placed a paw around her friend's shoulder. "Is it something I should know about, maybe?"  
  
The darker kitten laughed. "It's nothing big, Cettie. I just have to go thank someone. I'll see you later, okay?"  
  
Etcetera nodded and trotted off to find Tumblebrutus.  
  
Electra had to smile at that. Etcetera really did care about her, she knew, but she was so high-maintenance, it was hard to keep her pinned down for more than three seconds.  
  
Quickly looking around, she ran the short distance to the pipe. She didn't think he had noticed, but Electra had seen the understanding look he gave her earlier that morning. It had felt as though Misto knew exactly what I felt like to be carelessly passed over and ignored, and was telling her to take heart. Electra supposed that it was some kind of magic allowing him to read her so adeptly. After all, he couldn't possibly know what it was like to be a nobody; he was the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees. Still, she owed him her thanks.  
  
She stopped at the end of the pipe - the drape, which Misto usually left open, was down. That in itself was strange, but something didn't smell right. Cautiously sniffing the edges of the pipe, Electra nudged the drape aside and peered in. She had expected him to be sitting by the fire or something, but instead she found the magician lying face down on the floor. Rushing over to him, she placed one paw gingerly under his throat. The pulse was erratic and thready, and she thought she heard him mumbling something incoherent.  
  
Electra stood where she was for a minute, rooted with panic. What had happened? What could she do? Whimpering softly in fear, she gently turned Misto over and ran out of the pipe, screaming at the top of her lungs for the one cat she thought capable of handling anything.  
  
* * * *  
  
Demeter sighed and turned over silently so she was face-to-face with her mate. Almost timidly, she traced the line of his shoulder as he lay beside her. They had been together since the Jellicle Ball last year, but sometimes Demeter still marveled that he had chosen her. She had always considered herself somewhat of a plain queen, and yet somehow, inexplicably, she had earned the love of the most wonderful tom in the tribe. It was a mystery to her. When she had first ventured into the Junkyard, torn and neurotic from her recent encounter with Macavity, he had taken her under his wing almost immediately. He helped Bombalurina comfort her when she sensed Macavity was near and was always there to protect her.  
  
Smiling at his sleeping form, she nuzzled closer into his soft chest fur.  
  
"Munkustrap! Munkustrap!"  
  
Her ears pricked up at the sound. Extricating herself form her comfortable position, she ran out into the Junkyard clearing, where the sound was originating. Electra ran towards her, panicked and panting. "Munkustrap! Where's Munkustrap?"  
  
Demeter wrapped her arms around the frightened kitten's shoulders in an unconscious attempt to calm her down. "Shh, El. What's wrong?"  
  
The smaller cat was shaking all over and struggling valiantly to keep away the threatening tears. "It's Misto," she said haltingly. "Something's happened." Steadying her voice, she looked up imploringly at Demeter. "I have to see Munkustrap."  
  
Wordlessly, Demeter nodded and motioned for Electra to stay put. She glided back to her mate and gently shook him awake. His eyes were still glassy from sleep, but as soon as the word 'emergency' left Demeter's mouth he was up like a shot, fully awake and aware.  
  
"What's happened? Are you hurt?" he asked, gazing into her eyes concernedly.  
  
She shook her head. "No, but Electra's frantic with worry. She said something was wrong with Mistoffelees." Seeing the familiar protective fear rise in his eyes, she added, "She's just outside, waiting."  
  
They found the tabby kitten in the same place Demeter had left her, but now she was surrounded by a sea of questioning faces. Her cries had startled the cats that were in the Junkyard at the time and they relentlessly pressed her for answers. Electra almost cried in relief when she caught sight of them, and taking Munkustrap by the paw, led him away towards the pipe.  
  
* * * *  
  
He was falling. He hadn't been aware of the fact that he had fallen, but his surroundings - whatever they were - kept rushing upwards. Now and then he caught sight of the stars shooting past. He reached out to them, but they evaded his grasp, leaving him alone in the dark. As his guardians deserted him, his body felt leaden and he felt himself falling faster in the blackness. His body slammed against the hard ground, and he tasted the blood in his mouth as a silvery voice called out from the night: The hour is come.  
  
What? Painfully pulling himself up, he noticed a shadowy figure padding silently towards him. As the figure came closer, he recognized the ginger markings and his eyes widened involuntarily. Macavity laughed coldly and locked eyes with the younger cat. "Does it really surprise you so?"  
  
"What do you want with me?!" he hissed.  
  
The ginger cat's lips curled into a sneer as he replied. "I've already taken what I want." Crouching down close to the ground, he swished his tail back and forth as if to pounce.  
  
His prey looked around with wide staring eyes, trying in his panic to find some escape. Macavity watched as he started to run into the alley, then his back arched and his face contorted in a scream as his chest burst into flame.  
  
* * * *  
  
His eyes flew open and he jerked up with a startled gasp and immediately felt someone's arms fly around him comfortingly. Electra looked up from where her face was buried in his chest and smiled encouragingly through her tears. "Welcome back, Misto." When he failed to make a response, she pulled away with a murmured 'sorry' and stared at the floor.  
  
Misto mentally slapped himself for his idiocy. Here was one of his friends trying to make him feel better and he couldn't even show any emotion. Feeling like a fool, he smiled at her and held her close to reassure her. Then he remembered the reason she had been there in the first place. He looked from Demeter to Munkustrap, silently demanding an explanation. It was Demeter who spoke first. "She came running up to us frightened out of her head, poor thing, and led us here." She didn't have to finish the sentence. Misto turned his head down, trying to block out the images still swirling around in his brain.  
  
He frowned slightly. "Was there any trace of anyone else nearby?"  
  
The older queen shook her head, puzzled. "Only Electra."  
  
The kitten, upon hearing her name, glanced up from her position in Misto's arms. "What happened?"  
  
Mistoffelees was only able to look at her and give what he hoped was reassurance with his eyes, but he had to tell at least part of the truth. "I'm not sure, 'Lecty, but I'll feel a lot better after I talk to Tant and Corico." He got up shakily and started to leave, but Munkustrap's restraining paw on his shoulder stopped him.  
  
"If you think I'm letting you go anywhere alone, you're not half so clever as I thought you were."  
  
The tuxedo managed a small grin. "I'm not that stupid, Munk," he replied. "But don't you think it'd be just a little suspicious if you suddenly shadowed my every move?"  
  
Electra grimaced. "Actually, it wouldn't bring many more cats flocking than are already waiting outside."  
  
"You're kidding me. I don't even know what in Heaviside's name is going on here and they've practically called a meeting?"  
  
"Not quite so bad as that," Munkustrap put in quickly. "Alonzo's out there, and if he's following my orders he'll have sent everyone home by now." His eyes twinkled at the younger cat. "Somehow I thought you might not be in the mood to be completely open until you can tell me with certainty what's going on."  
  
Misto looked at him in amusement. "All that inferred without a word from me? Are you sure you don't have some latent psychic ability, my friend?"  
  
"Definitely not," Demeter said firmly. "One magician and two psychics are enough for any tribe," she purred, nuzzling her mate briefly. "Now," she added, "we'll leave you to look after Misto, 'Lecty." She ignored the glare this earned her from the magical cat. "Don't go too far." Demeter pulled the Jellicle Protector out with her for a catnap.  
  
Once they had gone, Misto turned back to Electra, the latter of which gazed almost shyly up at him. "What time do you think it is, 'Lecty?" he asked quietly. "I kind of lost track."  
  
"Not so far past noon," she replied. And then in answer to his unspoken question, she said, "I'm coming with you. I think Munk's right on this, Misto. What if.whatever that was.happens again? I don't want you to be alone."  
  
To her great relief, he smiled at her and motioned towards the exit. "Shall we?"  
  
* * * *  
  
Coricopat emerged from his meditation to find his twin staring off to her right with a thoughtful look on her face. "Tant?" He nuzzled her gently; it was understood between them that neither would look into the other's thoughts without express permission. Corico didn't have to read her mind, though, to sense that she was nervous about something.  
  
Tantomile didn't move or make any outward signs, but she sent a telepathic message to her brother. He's coming, but something's not right. His aura feels off-centre and I can't place what it is.  
  
Corico frowned. They had seen Mistoffelees depressed before, but rarely enough so to change the presentation of his aura. This had to be something more deeply rooted. Does he know what it is?  
  
His sister mentally shook her head. I think that may be what he wants us to find out.  
  
Oh joy, thought Corico sarcastically. He didn't mind his powers most of the time, and he liked the ability it gave him to help others. It just annoyed him that the only time another cat came to him or Tantomile was when they needed help. Sometimes he wished that they weren't taken so much for granted, but he never told his thoughts to anyone save his sister.  
  
Misto and Electra walked up just as he was finishing the thought. The magical cat's white face looked more drawn than usual, and Corico couldn't help noticing that every so often his paws would be drawn up to his head. Headaches? The last he'd heard Misto complain of that particular ailment, he had been completely new to his powers and just learning to control them. Curious indeed. Encouraged by a nod from Tantomile, their two visitors sat. Electra was fidgeting with her claws, looking nervously form Misto to the twins. Finally Tantomile signaled the beginning of the discussion.  
  
"Corico and I understand you would like our help in some way. May I ask what you had in mind?"  
  
Misto briefly told her about the vision, leaving out the part about Macavity.  
  
Coricopat sat and listened to Misto's account, and sent his sister a suggestion. Read him. He might know more than he thinks he does.  
  
Tantomile nodded. "If it's all right with you," she said to Misto, "I'd like to probe your mind a little. Perhaps we can find things you've forgotten that may be of use to us."  
  
"If you think it'll help, please do," he replied. Tantomile placed one paw on her brother's shoulder and the other on Misto's forehead, and dived carefully in.  
  
What she encountered first was a jumble of thoughts, but she could sense the object of her search not far away. As she started to make her way closer to it, however, it pulled away and began to fade into nothing. Surfacing from her trance bewildered, she said succinctly, "It's not there."  
  
"What's not there?" Misto asked.  
  
"Your magic. It's gone." 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This one's kind of a filler, but it has more of the other characters in it than the first two (i.e. Jenny, the kittens, etc.). Hope it can tide you over 'til the next chapter – not that anyone's reading this anyway.  
  
Dedication: This one's for Jesta, for egging me on so much and putting that lovely *cough* threat on her website^-~ *purrs & smileys* Sorry it's so late!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and a lawsuit would just inconvenience you. If you would still like to file a complaint, please leave a message at the sound of the tone. *runs*  
  
  
  
Jennyanydots smiled at the intruding balls of fluff sleeping quite comfortably on her young master's bed. Her humans were out of town for the weekend, which of course in kitten-speak meant one thing: sleepover. Little Jemi had begged to be allowed to have them sleep over at her house; Victoria had been taken to the vet for a checkup and Jellylorum had kicked her kittens out of the house after they had single-handedly destroyed the entire kitchen. Not that she minded watching the little monsters. Jelly wasn't the only queen who could baby the smaller members of the tribe. There was nothing like a good lazy day watching a bunch of kittens play to make a Gumbie cat fondly remember her own kittenhood.  
  
The all looked so adorable sprawled all over each other, and Jenny had to clap a paw over her mouth to keep from laughing. Tumblebrutus had somehow ended up upside down on top of his brother and was slowly sliding off, head first. He let out a startled yelp as the mattress made contact with his head and rolled the rest of the way off of Pouncival, blinking owlishly.  
  
The Gumbie cat stretched, bounded down from her perch on the windowsill, and ruffled her charge's fur. "Good morning, sleepypaws."  
  
He yawned at her and nudged Pouncival with one paw, the latter of which was snoring rather loudly, and still dead to the world. "Didn't know cats snored," he remarked.  
  
Jenny winked. "Shouldn't be too surprised. I once met a Pollicle who had learned from its humans how to burp. Don't wake them up yet, anyway. Would you be a dear and do me a small favour?"  
  
Tumble looked up and blinked at her. He didn't know about the 'dear' part, but it wasn't like he had anything else to do.  
  
"Could you go out and find us all some breakfast? The people hid all of the openables before they left."  
  
He nodded and padded out of the room and stopped at the top of the stairs. Looking back to make sure he wasn't being watched, he bolted down the stairs and out the door. It was safe now. Normally he tried to restrain his energy when he was around the Gumbie cat. Jenny liked fun and games as well as the next cat, but both he and Pouncival jumping around at the same time tended to annoy her. Okay, so it was mostly Pouncival doing the annoying, but he figured he'd be better off not to take chances.  
  
Spotting an unwary mouse a yard or so ahead, Tumble immediately crouched down low and watched its every move. He grinned to himself as he realized that Pounce would probably have already botched the job by now. Pounce would have made a good hunter if he wasn't so hyper most of the time. When he went in for the final leap he usually overestimated it and spent the rest of his energy at a dead run trying to catch the elusive thing. Tumble watched him and learned what not to do.  
  
Jemima was the best hunter of all of them. With her small frame and seemingly endless supply of patience, her prey never even knew she was coming until it felt the icy claw of death squash its little head. He didn't have that kind of advantage over his prey, but if it tried to run away, he could always pull a backflip on its ass.  
  
The mouse, tired of this patch of lawn, scurried across the grass at a frightening rate. Tumble hissed at it in annoyance. How dare it try to escape! He bounded over to it and prepared to sink his claws into breakfast.  
  
* * * *  
  
Tantomile watched expectantly as the smaller cat concentrated. She knew what she had seen and felt – the blue light that she was so familiar with in Misto's aura was gone. A quick look into his mind was usually all it took to convince her of something, and she had sounded sure of herself when she told him it was gone, but she wanted to be sure. The magic's disappearance from his mind might mean only that he thought it was gone; that he couldn't sense it anymore. Without his knowing, she had had Corico sift through his deeper aura while she was explaining it to him to see if it was merely hiding somewhere. The results were disheartening.  
  
She forced herself to think logically. It would at least make some sense of the sudden fits…she remembered that when Misto had first discovered his powers as a kitten the physical effects had been frighteningly similar. But then, if his magic really was gone, where did it go? The only explanation she could come up with was that it had been taken, and she had a feeling that Misto himself was thinking in the same sphere. She hadn't been actively looking at his thoughts when she dived into his psyche, but she caught a glimpse of Macavity. The pieces to the puzzle were multiplying exponentially, and Tant drew her attention back to the present. She would sort out her thoughts later.  
  
Mistoffelees was sitting on the ground next to an old teacup – he didn't trust himself to be able to stand and attempt magic simultaneously – and looking at her quizzically. Tantomile gave him a nod and he looked back to the teacup, seeming to stare straight through it in concentration. At her brother's side, Electra gave a small whimper and motioned to the magician. Coricopat shushed her as he saw the tuxedo's ears move, afraid she might unwittingly break his concentration. Then Tantomile saw what was upsetting the young queen kit. The Conjuring Cat's paws were laying on his knees, but something was wrong. Usually when Misto was gearing up to do magic, his paws were covered in glittering sparkles – the physical manifestation of the magic as he gathered it with his mind. Now they were plain, and. . .twitching. . .?  
  
Her attention was drawn back to his face, and before she could stop herself she had already crossed half the distance to the smaller cat. No, Tant! Coricopat pleaded with his twin. If he's spelled, you'll be affected too if you touch him. Just wait a moment, please. Seeing the sense in his argument, she planted her feet firmly where they were and looked on helplessly. The magician's face was a mask of thinly veiled pain, and she could see his eyes darting back and forth wildly under the closed lids. With a scream he staggered upright and then doubled over, clutching his head, the teacup shattered into hundreds of tiny shards on the ground.  
  
"Wait," Cori urged, more to Electra than to Tantomile, as the kitten pushed forward in a desperate attempt to reach her friend.  
  
Slowly straightening, Mistoffelees managed to pull his paws down from his head from sheer force of will. His eyes were still clamped shut – any form of light right now felt like it would kill him. The pain lanced through his head stringer than the first time. He was dimly aware of a paw on his shoulder, and a voice saying into his head, Open your eyes, little one. The voice was soothing, talking to him like a distressed kit; taking care not to intensify the pain. I promise you the pain will not last forever. His body twitched, fighting the shut the voice out of his head. Why listen to her, it seemed to scream at his mind, the pain will never stop! It will kill us!  
  
Us? his mind shot back. There is no "us"; there is only me!  
  
Tantomile sensed the ongoing struggle and stepped back just as Misto's eyes slowly opened. They were still shadowy and dark, but the worst seemed to be over. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Electra break free of Coricopat and launch herself at her friend. As the scared kitten buried her face in his soft chest fur, Tantomile saw his raise his paws to eye level, and she suddenly noticed the wet streak marks down the sides of his face.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Jist one mo'ah, please Jer?"  
  
The tiger tabby looked back at his mate incredulously. "Don' yeh think two is enuff fer one noight, luv?" he said, dragging a bag of stolen items almost as big as he was. "Th' jools alone from tha' last one 'ould feed th' enti'ah Junkyahd fer a ye'ah."  
  
Rumpleteazer nuzzled up close to him, slinging her own small bag over her shoulder in a cocky manner. "Nuffin' Oi can' handle, you know tha'," she boasted with a mischievous glint in her eye.  
  
"Well mebbe Oi wasn' talkin' bout you," he retorted as he dropped the bag and sat down for a break. Taking the loot back to the Junkyard was one thing, but 'Teazer had been feeling adventurous and wanted to patrol the Grove a bit. Personally, Mungojerrie's favoured kind of adventure tonight would have been dropping off the winnings for the night and escorting his lady fair to the fined eateries in London. But beggars can't be romantics – he supposed it could wait until another night anyway.  
  
'Teazer pouted and managed to plop gracefully down beside him. "Please?"  
  
Sighing in defeat, Mungojerrie rolled over on his back and posed cutely with his paws at chest-height. "Yer officially gonna be th' death o' me, 'Teaz."  
  
She laughed and nuzzled him a little, then sprang up excitedly and tugged on Mungojerrie's paws. "Come on, luv, Oi knows th' pehfect plaice, Oi do!"  
  
Mungo managed to stand up before Rumpleteazer dismembered a majour limb. "An' whe'ah exactly is this pehfect plaice?"  
  
This time it was the tabby queen's turn to shush her mate. "Close yer eyes, ducks, an' you'll foind ou'," she said, grinning impishly.  
  
He complied with a playful sigh, and stuck both arms out in front of him like a zombie in a low-budget horror movie. Laughing, 'Teazer led him across the neighbourhood, trying to avoid an unnecessary encounter with the Buckleys' rosebush, and came to a halt.  
  
At her signal, Mungojerrie opened his eyes with a groan. They stood in front of the house of one of the richest humans in Victoria Grove, a stiff businessman by the name of Chumley who lavished enough money for five cats on one old German Shepherd. "Are you bloomin' craizy, 'Teaz?"  
  
"Maiybe, luv," she giggled. "Go on an' work yer magic naow so's Oi cin see wot sort o' goodies our koind benefact'ah 'as laiyin' aroun' the 'ouse, all roight?"  
  
Mungojerrie shook his head emphatically. "Not unless you promise me roight naow tha' this is th' last one. Oi'm getting' a little tired, an' we left th' big bag back at th' Jones' plaice."  
  
"Cross me 'eart, ducks. Naow, come on!" She fairly danced in place with impatience. When they were still young kittens, the duo had quite accidentally discovered Rumpleteazer's incredible knack for speed. It was decided that 'Teazer would act as principal 'liberator' and Mungojerrie, who had shown an affinity for lockpicking, would provide the means of entry as well a reliable sentry in case of emergency. More often than not, however, that rule was forgotten and the pair enjoyed the thrill of house- wrecking together, but Jerrie still got stuck with the lock.  
  
Leaping easily up onto the windowsill on the side of the house, he carefully manoeuvered himself into the position that afforded him the most security. Mungojerrie took his lockpicking seriously, and when he was busy all of his surroundings seemed to fade into the background. There was only him and the lock. Being aware of this, Rumpleteazer still took it upon herself to startle her mate once in awhile.  
  
Concentrating hard and managing to drown out 'Teazer's ranting complain about humans who put locks on their windows of all things, he unsheathed a claw and inserted it in the lock. With an expert twist, Mungojerrie was rewarded with a soft *snick*. 'Teazer beamed at him and wiggled in as he held the window open with one paw. She paused inside and looked back at him imploringly. "Come on, luv. Don' leave me to 'ave all the fun aroun' 'e'ah!"  
  
"Oh, foine," Mungo conceded, reaching just inside the window and propping it up with a thick book. He jumped down onto the decadent cherry wood bureau and then to the carpeted floor and concentrated his attention on a particularly extravagant china hutch while 'Teazer headed for the jewelry.  
  
"Oh my. . ." he heard her giggle. "Such loverly foine jools for an old man an' a Pollicle!"  
  
Her mate grinned at her and pushed the last piece of decorated china carefully onto the cushions on the couch when his ears pricked up. Leaving his loot reluctantly, he went to investigate the jingling sound he had heard. Rumpleteazer, unaware of his alarm, continued to place various pieces of jewelry into her bag. Mungojerrie padded quietly into the foyer and looked out the window by the door, being as invisible as he could. Letting out a frightened hiss, he raced back to where he had left 'Teazer. "We gotta get outta 'e'ah, 'Teaz! The 'uman's 'ome!"  
  
Picking up the smaller of the two bags of goods, the two ran to the window they had entered from, only to be met by the owner's dog. The vicious beast jumped up at the two tabbies, snapping and snarling. Startled, Mungojerrie whirled around as he heard the door open from a few rooms away. Just before he could panic, he caught sight of someone at another window across the room, pawing at the glass and gesticulating wildly. Taking his mate by the paw, he half-dragged her over to the strange cat, who promptly lifted the window up for them to escape. As they were darting across the lawn, the master of the house walked into his ruined dining room.  
  
Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer collapsed in a breathless heap at the end of the alley, staring gratefully up at their rescuer. The cat in question was a red classic tabby Manx with deep golden eyes, which looked at them calmly while he washed his paws. Getting her wind back first, Rumpleteazer addressed the strange cat. "Saiy, um, thanks fer saivin' our tails back the'ah, wot-ev'ah-yer-naime-is!"  
  
The Manx's eyes squinted amusedly. "My name is Telemachus. . .and it was no problem at all." Finishing his impromptu bath, the red cat cocked his head good-naturedly. "You two must be the infamous Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie."  
  
Mungo had just opened his mouth to correct him on the order of the names when his mate piped up, "Wow! 'Ow di' you know tha'?"  
  
Telemachus just smiled. "Let's just say in my line of work there is hardly anyone who has not heard of the two greatest cat burglars in London."  
  
Puffing out his chest a little, Mungojerrie said, "Ya know, it's getting' koinda laite, Oi 'fink we should be 'eadin' back naow."  
  
Their companion nodded. "If you wouldn't mind, it would be my pleasure to escort you to your destination."  
  
Before Mungo could reply, 'Teazer answered him. "O' course we don' moind, do we Jerrie?"  
  
Biting his tongue, the tiger forced out a civil-sounding 'no' and started walking in the general direction of the Junkyard, pulling Rumpleteazer along with him. He appreciated the Manx's kindness in helping them out, but if he was going to follow them, he'd stay to the rear where he couldn't bother them. He and Rumpleteazer were unconscious before they hit the ground, and Telemachus stood over them with an old loafer in his paw. Hoisting his captives over his shoulder, he headed off in his own direction, opposite that of the Junkyard.  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, don't kill me yet! Notice the rating – nobody dies from nasty sharp pointy teeth. . .yet! Muahahahaha! Anymeow, more to come soon once I can break in the English teacher! AHHHH!!!! *pulls out five-year-old pocky with white mould to scare away evil teacher* GET AWAY!! 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Chapter 4, no da! Apologies for the amount of time it took to get this one off the ground (It's all my English teacher's fault!). That and I've been *ahem* feeding my LotR obsession with pics and such – Dom and Lij and Billy, oh my! (If you have no clue what I'm rambling about, I highly suggest you go see Lord of the Rings NOW!) Special thanks and a catnip mouse to all the loyal reviewers – hope this installment doesn't disappoint you too much! ^-^ Enjoy, kitties.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing (except a nasty set of allergies…*WAUGH*)  
  
  
  
Shifting positions on the old pillow so she was laying on her back, she reached up with one paw and smoothed the fur in between her ears. No matter what she did with it, whenever she wasn't looking it always seemed to take pride in sticking straight up. Sighing irritably, she gave up and closed her eyes again. It was nice to be able to take a day off just for herself, and, as usual, it was Jenny who had offered to take over the matronly duties for the duration of her absence. The kittens needed constant supervision (especially the ones who insisted that they didn't) when they were at the Junkyard, and some of them didn't have homes or humans. She herself couldn't imagine life without her human family. Sure, she could take care of herself, but after kitten-sitting all day – sometimes for days at a time – it was nice to have someone to spoil her unconditionally. Strays didn't know what they were missing…although sometimes she suspected her own daughters would prefer that lifestyle to having to restrain themselves from playing tag around curtains and vases.  
  
"Jelly mom hi!"  
  
"Rrowr!" Instinctively Jellylorum bristled and hissed at the new voice, calming when she recognized its owner. "Shep, you startled me."  
  
Shep, the family's Pollicle, grinned lopsidedly at her. When the family had first brought him home, Jellylorum had kept her manner carefully aloof, watching the bumbling puppy with reserved amusement. Eventually, she had gotten the idea that this Pollicle could not possibly pose a threat to her if she got in its good graces early on, so the next logical step was to mother it. She had given up trying to keep it clean after the first mouthful of greasy black fur, but the puppy had grown up with her companionship. Jelly never could have told anyone in the Junkyard that she was friends with a Pollicle, save Jenny of course; it would worry Munkustrap to no end. The silver tabby took his position as Protector very seriously indeed, and she didn't want to take the chance that Shep could be construed as dangerous. "Pol-watching," as the kittens called it, was actually Alonzo's duty since he was a stray and could spend more of his time at the Junkyard, but the black and white cat only really stood guard when he couldn't find anything better to do.  
  
Jellylorum meowed politely at the Pollicle as he jumped clumsily up on the bed and lay down beside her. Even though Shep was full-grown, his mentality rarely progressed beyond that of a pup, which made him the big drooling equivalent of a kitten in the calico's matronly view. She had just settled back down and closed her eyes when she heard a familiar tread on the walk and the unmistakable jingle of her human pet's key in the door. Curling her tail affectionately around Shep's ears, Jelly leaped off the bed and made her way over to greet her returning pets. The adult female scratched her under her chin, feeling gratified when rewarded with a purr, and stepped past with her black heels clacking softly on the floor of the foyer. Absently rubbing against the adult male and human kittens' legs, Jellylorum padded silently out the door, leaving her pets to find the incredible mess Shep had made on the bedspread with his fur.  
  
As she found herself once more in the Junkyard, she took note of the unusual quiet and resolved to thank Jennyanydots yet again for getting the Jellicle kittens out of her fur – at least for a while. Jelly sighed and stretched out on her favourite spot on the hood of the old car, content to silently take in her surroundings. She heard her jovial half-brother before she saw him, his tenor brogue – somewhat muddled from years of residing mainly in London – engaged in a bouncy ditty, and smiled to herself. With an expert twirl of his brown tail, Skimbleshanks sat down beside her and grinned. "Enjoying the rare lazy day, are we now?"  
  
"You know it all too well," the calico replied, purring. The orange tabby made a face at the reference to the habit most of the kittens (and some of the adults) had fallen into of calling him 'Uncle Skimble'.  
  
"I don't mind it, I just wish they didn't make it sound so old! I daresay I can still cut a reel as well as any of those young whippersnappers," he quipped.  
  
Jelly purred. "They are little dears, though, aren't they? When they don't have their hearts set on being difficult, anyway."  
  
"While we're on that subject, the next time you see Pouncival, clout him a good one on the ears for me, won't you? Little blighter decided it would be fun to use one of the mail bags as a cushion for his acrobatics."  
  
The calico chuckled at the Railway Cat's indignation. "That bad, eh?"  
  
"No, indeed! Conductor blamed it all on me and so conveniently 'forgot' my tea and scotch for another three days!"  
  
"All right, all right, I see your point," she conceded, preening absently.  
  
Her companion stared off into oblivion for a few seconds, then turned back to her with a serious glint in his green eyes. "Jelly, what do you know about the Heaviside Layer?"  
  
Startled by the question, Jellylorum glanced at her brother quizzically. "Now whatever prompted that question?"  
  
Skimble scratched his head. "I don't really know. Someone mentioned it earlier today, so I suppose that just started me thinking about it. Do you know anything about it?"  
  
"Nothing besides what we've both been told all our lives: that it's a place Jellicles go when we die and are reborn from…and of course that it's full of many wonders."  
  
"Hn…" The orange cat met his sister's gaze with confusion. "One of the young ones came up to me and had asked me what I knew about it, and I was clueless beyond what you just described. I had hoped you could enlighten me."  
  
"Who was it that asked you? To my knowledge, all of the kittens are with Jenny at her humans' house."  
  
"That was the strange part. It was Electra."  
  
"Little El? I never took her for the type to be interested in such things."  
  
"Neither did I," the tabby agreed.  
  
Clearing her throat surreptitiously, Jelly prompted gently, "Did she want anything else?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, she did. After I couldn't answer her about Heaviside, she started asking me strange questions about magic. When I suggested that those were questions she would be better off asking Mistoffelees, she ran off in tears."  
  
* * * *  
  
His breath came out as a small hiss, but he forced his body to obey him, ignoring the discomfort. The Jellicle Ball was less than a month away, and he wanted to have something special to astonish everyone with when the time came. Problem was, there wasn't much that they all hadn't seen him do before. Backflips, cartwheels, handsprings…not an original thing left in his repertoire. Not too bad of a dilemma, though. He reasoned that if he stayed active and practiced all his old tricks enough, something new would make itself known to him in time. So here he was up by the old rocking chair again, stretching. Gritting his teeth, he brought his legs back together from the split position they had previously been in and lifted the headstand up to a one-armed handstand. This particular move required all his concentration. If he were to for one second lose control of one minuscule muscle…  
  
"Hey Pounce!"  
  
Momentarily startled, Pouncival wavered in the air for a moment, then came crashing down on top of the intruder, soliciting a small "oof!" from the unfortunate cat. Bleary-eyed and wincing slightly at a sudden pain in his hind paw, he managed to cut off an indignant remark when he saw just who it was he had literally fallen for. Jemima's wide green eyes stared back at him with laughter in their depths, and she pouted jokingly. "'M sorry, Pounce! I didn't mean to frighten you," she apologized between giggles.  
  
Pouncival felt his insides melting at her little smile, and spared himself a quick glance down the length of his body to ensure that his outsides weren't following suit. "It's okay…I don't mind," he said awkwardly.  
  
She grinned radiantly at him. "The Ball's coming up soon. Do you have anything special planned for this year?"  
  
"Well, I can't really sing all too well, so I thought I'd just dance and fool around with Tumble mostly. Like last time."  
  
"Like last time…" the scarlet kitten echoed thoughtfully. She pouted, then Pounce thought he saw a glint in her eye that in any other cat could have been mistaken for mischief. "Pounce – would you like to learn?"  
  
The tortie and white kitten blinked. "Learn what?"  
  
"To sing, of course," Jemima said softly. "I'd be happy to teach you if you'll let me…and if you would do one favour for me."  
  
"Sure," Pounce agreed, happy at the prospect of spending more time with the younger Jellicle. "Anything."  
  
She traced one claw in the dirt shyly, then looked up at him. "Could you teach me how to do acrobatics? Like you and Tumble do?"  
  
In answer, he took her paw gently and helped her up, placing one paw on each side of her small body just above her hips. Grinning at her, he said, "We'll start with a simple cartwheel."  
  
* * * *  
  
He felt free when he danced – his body and his soul intertwined in perfect harmony to create the simple movements that together formed his prayer. It left his mind free to mull things over while his body was occupied with the graceful turns and leaps it had done thousands of times before. This time there was plenty to think about. Speaking to Tantomile about his singular problem hadn't helped much, just left him with more questions. She could tell no more than he what had caused the apparent loss of his magical ability, but was clearly as frightened. Electra was frightened, too, he could see it in her eyes when he looked at her.  
  
Electra. His thoughts turned to her as he landed another leap. He had to see her. She had been by his side the whole time – in fact it was she who had gotten help in the first place – and he had not thought to say one word of thanks or comfort. Heaviside knew what the poor kitten must be thinking, though Mistoffelees had some idea that her thoughts closely mirrored his own. If he were to die…  
  
Shaking that decidedly unpleasant thought out of his head, he walked off to find her.  
  
* * * *  
  
Electra sniffed a little and flopped over onto her side, pillowing her head with one paw. It just wasn't fair. She didn't know what to do about anything that was happening. She had just gone to thank him for trying to make her feel better when she was sad, and now everything was one huge whirl of emotions in her mind. It only got worse when she tried to disentangle it – nothing made sense. Asking Tantomile or Coricopat to explain was worse than trying to chase a mouse through a rosebush, and Skimble hadn't been able to tell her anything either. Well, he had been able to tell her one thing. Go ask Mistoffelees. Unfortunately, that only brought her back to square one. She was fairly sure that Misto had no more idea of what was happening to him than she did. He had made one thing clear to her though, he didn't want anyone else to know anything.  
  
Personally she thought it a rather silly request; someone was bound to notice something was wrong eventually. She would honour his wishes for now, though, because she didn't know what else to do. Her first instinct was to run to Jellylorum in a crying mass of confusion and ask her what she would do in her situation, but Jelly was gone for the day, and Misto needed her.  
  
Needed her? Now there was a silly thought. Misto doesn't need anybody, she thought to herself. It's just my own delusional mind trying to trick me into believing that anybody would need me. Sighing, she rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head on her folded paws. Why was she even bothering hanging around Mistoffelees? She was only getting in the way and she was sure he would appreciate her taking the hint and just leaving him alone…  
  
"El?"  
  
She looked up at the owner of the timid voice that had disturbed her reflection. Sniffing softly and blinking back her confused tears, she shied away from him and faced in the other direction. Mistoffelees, perturbed by the gesture, walked around to face her and sat down. "El…what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong," she replied angrily. Nothing's wrong for you, she wanted to cry. You have others who care what you think and you're tough enough to go it alone. You don't need me hanging on your every word or look. "Go away."  
  
The hurt she saw in his brown eyes only made her more resolved. "Go away, I said. I don't want to talk to you again." True enough, she mused silently. If I don't talk to you, then I can't be a bother.  
  
Misto shook his head slowly. "El, I need to talk to you about something," he started to say as he leaned in closer to her, but she cut him off brusquely.  
  
"Didn't you hear what I said?"  
  
His eyes closed for a brief minute, as if in pain, but then he moved closer to her, pleading. "Electra…"  
  
Why didn't he understand? Hissing, Electra's paw arched through the air, catching him on the cheek. "I said go away!"  
  
Raising one paw to his cheek, the Conjuring cat turned and slunk away, and the rust-coloured kitten buried her face in her paws and cried.  
  
  
  
A/N: Yay! I finally finished this one! And I managed to work a little 'Mima/Pouncikins into it too, muahaha! *ahem* Sorry there's no 'Teazer and Jerrie in this one, Jesta, but they're coming up next! I'll prolly have some more Munk and Demi fluff and a little bit of Old D once I'm done torturing Mr. M. ^-^  
  
Also, I recently received a bit of bad news from my friend JestaAriadne for all of you who haven't heard it yet: they're closing CATS in London! Evilness of all evils! Even my kitten gave a sad little meow when I told her. This of course means we have to wait for both London and Broadway to come to their senses and have a revival sometime before we're all 80… 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the long in-between chapter delay - we had a drill team comp Saturday with another one this coming Friday plus, of course, unbelievable homework loads from my *ahem* wonderful English and Geometry teachers...grr! -.-;; This chap's a bit short but hopefully I've got some more on the way shortly, so bear with me.  
  
Disclaimer: Still isn't mine...  
  
Mistoffelees sat miserably in the entrance to his pipe, his fur already dampening from the impromptu shower tapping just over his head. How appropriate, he thought sardonically, tears from the heavens to match the tears of my heart. His paw reached up involuntarily and traced the lines of the angry red scratches on his face before he caught himself and pulled it back down. Why did it bother him so much how Electra had treated him? It wasn't as if he had never been shunned or seen as the outcast before - until he had revealed his powers to the tribe, that was all he'd been. He ought to be used to it by now, or at least have built up enough of a defense to shake it off as part of a bad day and go about business as usual. But he couldn't.  
  
The questions came to his mind unbidden, tearing down all the walls he had gradually built up over time and challenging him for answers he could not give. Was it all because of the magic? Was that why Electra had acted like she didn't want him around any more? Because he no longer had control of his magic? The thought persisted even as some lost forgotten part of his mind cried out angrily in denial. When the others found out, they would surely treat him the same way. He had always known that his abilities gave him a special link to the other Jellicles, especially the kittens, but he had never permitted himself to think that their attitude towards him would change without it. The sudden realization scared him, and he bolted out of his pipe straight into the rain.  
  
Crouching in the storm, eyes wide and ears twitching wildly, he faced one of the toughest decisions of his young life. He could return to his cozy, insulated pipe and pretend that nothing had happened, or he could simply leave. Leave and forget all the indecision and the unhappiness, never having to look over his shoulder again and wonder if the snickers and covert smiles were directed at him. With one last gaze at the home he had known for the better part of a year and that was filled with so many memories of the group of cats he had come to love, and who he had thought had come to love him, he turned and made his way to the border of the Junkyard.  
  
He paused at the border, wavering indecisively. What he was about to do meant he had to survive completely on his own, with no expected help from anyone. With a start he realized that if he made this decision he would never see his human pets again. Any of the Junkyard cats would know to look for him at his humans' house. He closed his eyes and clearly saw himself as a kitten, bedraggled and half-starved, with his fur plastered against his small frame from rain not unlike the rain now. His kitten-self mewed plaintively at every figure that passed his refuge under a soaked and dripping cardboard box propped up against the trash bin, occasionally sneezing at the droplets that formed on his whiskers. After his voice was strained and hoarse, the pitiful cry for help caught the attention of an orange tabby. The strange cat poked his nose inquisitively into the box, his eyebrows arching in surprise. "Well now, what `ave we here?"  
  
He sneezed again, reaching forward tentatively with a tiny black paw out to the stranger. The tabby somehow felt safe to him, combining an air of controlled fun with the scent of cinnamon that calmed him almost to the point of sleep. He did fall asleep when the new cat scooped him up gently in his paws and carried him off, just managing to catch a muddled, "There, there now boyo, ye'll be safe and sound in me Jenny's arms in but a minute," before welcome darkness enveloped him.  
  
Coming slowly back to the present, Mistoffelees gave a barely audible sigh. It was wonderful while it lasted, but he dimly remembered someone saying that all good things must come to an end. His breath catching in his throat, he took a step past the border, renouncing in his mind all claim to the Junkyard as his home, and made off down the grimy alleyway. 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Another shortie...I truly hate school.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine....blah.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open to darkness as thick and tangible that of unconsciousness. Even with her eyes adjusted to the black, she could only see so far as twenty paces and she got the feeling that the room was much bigger. Feeling around with her paw, she stumbled across a familiar furry lump in the floor. The lump presently yawned and stretched as she latched herself onto him in relief. "Cor! `Ow long've Oi been out, `Teaz? Wai' a tick...whe'ah's th' skoiy?"  
  
"Oi dunno, Jerrie, Oi dunno," she replied shakily. She relaxed visibly when Mungojerrie began to groom her comfortingly, and snippets of memories came back to her. "'Twas tha' Manx ca', wasn' it?" she said softly, "'Ee's th' one wot brung us `e'ah."  
  
Her mate whispered the other cat's name almost inaudibly but with such vehemence that she involuntarily winced. Painfully aware of the absence of his rough tongue between her ears, Rumpleteazer snuggled in closer to him and buried her face in his side. "Oi wanna go `ome, Jer."  
  
"Oi know, luv, so do Oi." He attempted to comfort her as he wrestled with his own questions. What did Telemachus hope to gain by bringing them to...wherever this was? Caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't notice the burning pair of eyes in the corner until Rumpleteazer whispered his name in alarm. Wrapping his arms more securely around his mate, he called out into the darkness, "'Oo's the'ah?"  
  
He immediately wished he hadn't as a well-known laugh echoed throughout the cell. The queen in his arms stiffened slightly and hissed, which drew another laugh from their unseen visitor. "There now, I trust I haven't done anything to provoke such a welcome? You would do well to practice a bit more diplomacy, my lovely thief."  
  
"Wot do you wan', Macavity?" he growled. There had been a time when a look from the Napoleon of Crime would have frightened the mischievous duo enough to obey him, albeit reluctantly, but that time was no more. Macavity held no sway over them now.  
  
"Simple enough," the ginger cat replied. "The Jellicles have something I want, and you're going to retrieve it for me. Alive and unhurt."  
  
Mungojerrie stared at his former employer in confusion. Alive and unhurt? That meant it was a someone rather than a something, but who could Macavity possibly want that he couldn't get himself? Old Deuteronomy was the only possible candidate in his mind, and there was no way in hell he was going to give up the Jellicle leader to the Mystery Cat without a fight. "You cin jist forge' it, Macavity. You'll nev'ah get Old Deut and we'll nev'ah `elp you!"  
  
Macavity didn't laugh, but the look in his eyes promised exquisite pain if his orders remained ignored. "Whoever said I wanted that old codger? It wasn't his fault he suddenly disappeared when I had taken so much trouble to bring him here; the matter was out of his control. But it was in someone else's." His manner changed abruptly and he snatched Rumpleteazer from the protective arms of Mungojerrie and held her against the wall, savouring her fear. "Since your mate is obviously not inclined to help me, you shall. And if you fail..." he left the sentence hanging with a deliberate look at Mungojerrie. Flinging the orange tabby queen across the cell and motioning for the rats congregated in the corner to escort Mungojerrie to his own cell, he bounded over to her and locked eyes with her. "I will have the Conjurer in my possession my this time tomorrow night. Am I being perfectly clear?"  
  
Not daring to break eye contact, Rumpleteazer nodded and brokenheartedly followed Macavity as he led her outside. "Remember, you have one day, and I do not expect you shall like the consequences if you do not deliver the Conjurer to me by that time." Sparing her a dark grin and a flick of his tail, the ginger cat disappeared inside his lair, and Rumpleteazer was alone. 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the insufferably long delay, everyone. The last few months of school were utter hell, and I have a commitment to boot camp in about a week, but until then I shall do my best to juggle upcoming chapters with everything else in my book! (Special apologies to Jesta, and thanks for the encouragement! ^.^) I'll try to get through the filler chapters as quickly as possible without missing any important plot bunnies…and I promise all the naughty little careless errors in grammar and typing and such will be mended when I begin corrections. PS: I know this chapter's short, but just hang in there my little anoraks! *insane laughter*  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine…(two simple words can bring such sadness, ne?)  
  
  
  
Old Deuteronomy lay in his usual place on the vicarage wall, enjoying the feel of stray sunbeams dancing across his face and half-listening to his human, the vicar, speaking to his own little tribe about the values he gave to them to uphold in life. He rarely spent much time at the Junkyard anymore, if nothing else but for the fact that he was getting on in years and savoured every lazy moment he could find. It was also better for the Tribe itself that he wasn't available to solve their every little problem. Munkustrap would soon be their leader, and they would have to learn to trust the silver tabby as much as they trusted him, if not more. Deuteronomy took advantage of this to spend more time with his human pet. The vicar was a kind man, old enough to be content simply sitting with the Jellicle Leader and scratching his ears, keeping him company with idle conversation.  
  
The old tabby twitched his tail affably as his protégé approached reverently, leaping up to the wall and waiting silently. "Yes, Munkustrap?"  
  
The younger cat – no longer surprised at the Leader's ability to sense his identity after an unfortunate encounter with the shrubbery on the other side of the vicarage wall – lowered his body down to a position of humility. "I must confess I am at a loss, sir…current events at the Junkyard seem a bit out of the ordinary, to put it lightly."  
  
His attention caught, Deuteronomy carefully shifted his position so that he was facing the silver tom and urged him to continue.  
  
"Well, sir, it actually began a day or so ago, but I thought it best to wait and see if the problem could be solved easily before petitioning your aid. Demeter woke me up one night recently saying that one of the younger kittens was in trouble. Electra was waiting for me, upset to the point of tears, and led us – Demeter and I, sir – to Mr. Mistoffelees' pipe…"  
  
Munkustrap paused there for a moment. "Yes?" the older Jellicle said softly. "What happened?"  
  
"He was…on the floor, sir, I don't know exactly what happened. Electra was saying something about coming in and finding him like that, but it was hard to understand her through her tears. At first, I thought he was only exhausted and was sleeping, but he was shivering uncontrollably, and his whiskers twitched…almost like he was dreaming. Sir…most of his body was freezing, but the area around his heart was burning up."  
  
"That certainly does sound strange, now. Have you been able to find anything more about what happened?"  
  
"No, sir, but I am worried. Mistoffelees himself does not seem inclined to talk about it, and some of the other cats have heard bits and pieces about it and are asking for an answer."  
  
The aging Leader caught the unspoken query in his voice. "A leader's life is a bitter brew, Munkustrap, as you have undoubtedly realized by now. Sometimes it is hard to ken when we should leave matters as they are and when the best time is to seek an immediate answer. I think right now the best solution is simply to sit back and watch. Trust those you lead, my son. An answer will present itself soon enough. We do not always have to go searching for one."  
  
Silently, Munkustrap nodded, and took his leave. Deuteronomy watched him go with a wry look in his deep eyes. Somehow he had the feeling that this matter ran deeper than it appeared to.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Just a few more steps, he told his bleeding paws as he limped onto the dirty cobblestones. He didn't have to have anyone tell him this was Tottenham Court Road; the smells of rotting garbage and the sight of desperate humans sleeping beside their roadside flower baskets were testimony enough. Vainly he longed to veer off and surrender himself to sleep in one of their wicker baskets – surely one of these humans could benefit from a cat's company – but his body kept stubbornly plodding along. He didn't need the conscious guidance of his mind – that was occupied with other things. He had no discernible purpose, anyway, unless it were to prove to himself through some rough revelation that his ephemeral existence gave some hint of aid or service back to the world. With a regretful pang he remembered that his late pets had kept many interesting books, a fact which he had discovered and utilized on the countless nights after someone had inadvertently left the old table-lamp burning, one of which had explained the concept of dharma. The idea of owing a debt to the world seemed to hit a sore point with many others, but it slid into Mistoffelees' philosophy like just another piece of the puzzle. It seemed fitting that he should give something back to the world which had given him the blessing of life, although sometimes its gifts were overshadowed by the hardships, and what better way than through his magic?  
  
He stopped that train of thought before it had a chance to give form to the unuttered fear that had always haunted him: But what good is just another clown?  
  
So intent was he on his inner struggle that he did not notice the paperboy, also lost in his thoughts, until the bicycle was almost on top of him. 


End file.
